


Charity Case

by fontech



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fontech/pseuds/fontech
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teddy frets about money in the wake of his mother's death, Billy frets about Teddy, and the ladies are amazing as always.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charity Case

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this overnight and hadn't slept more than five hours in two days! It's unedited! ...Fuck! |D
> 
> Special thanks to Kukki for guidance and moral support; this is a surprise gift for her.

The majority of Billy’s good, well-intentioned ideas always seemed to enjoy blowing up in his face.

It was a bit like magic, in a way; the control was there at first, coupled with his enthusiasm, but as soon as even a little of the electricity got away from him, panic set in, and by then it’s already steamrolled, resulting in something broken or on fire. Months of practice and it still happened on occasion- after the standard “Iwant” and Teddy’s name, an apology was his most frequently spoken word both on and off the battlefield.

He’d wanted it to be a  _good_  thing, too—that was really the part that bothered him the most. It had started out as a niggling little urge to help. Teddy’s mother had died – in front of him, in front of  _all_  of them, with his magic fizzling and useless and Teddy being stolen away, unable to even say goodbye – and the Kaplan family had taken him in, fast-tracking the fostering process with the help of the Avengers. It was the least they could do, after all, after accepting him so unquestioningly into Billy’s life. And for a while, things had actually seemed okay. Teddy fit seamlessly into the household routine, he was polite and gracious, and the entire family loved him. Billy’s brothers took to him so swiftly that Billy was almost  _jealous_. (Almost. They were still brats, so the attention they gave to Teddy was something of a relief.)

And yet.  _And yet_.

About two weeks after he officially moved in, Teddy came home and announced that he’d gotten himself a job. At the Kaplans’ lifted brows, he’d smoothly explained that he’d wanted a bit of experience that didn’t involve turning green and growing wings, and some extra pocket change to indulge his boyfriend every now and then- something he accompanied with a wink in Billy’s direction, which had earned him a few smiles and a chorus of “grooooooss” from the younger population of the family. And the matter had been settled, just like that: Teddy would be working weekends at a little shop down the street, a few hours here and there when he could, between school and heroics and – though no one mentioned it – grieving his dead mother.

So the seed had been planted.

  
 

* * *

 

Teddy was an incredible person; no one who knew his situation could have argued against this fact. He lost his mother, his home, and a good chunk of his identity in one fell swoop, and was still able to smile, to laugh, to love his boyfriend and glide smoothly into his newfound position of “adopted son” with barely a bump or two along the road. It was infuriating, in so many ways, because Billy knew how openly devastated he’d have been if their roles had been reversed. He’d always been the first to cry, but Teddy… he hadn’t cried once since that day. At least, not when anyone was there to see it; a few times Billy had caught him with eyes that looked almost red, but when the slightest bit of suspicion appeared on his own face the signs were gone from Teddy’s, replaced by a smile, a kiss on the nose, and a quiet query of “Is something wrong, B?”

Shape shifters were such cheaters.

It didn’t help those niggling doubts Billy kept feeling, though, even if Teddy could just shift away the physical evidence. One couldn’t shift away emotions—worries, fear, sorrow. Grief was a thing that lingered, and Billy watched for it, hating how helpless he felt in the wake of Teddy’s loss. He did what he could with his hands, arms, lips, and whatever words he could fumble through to try and comfort it, but it was becoming so buried beneath the surface that sometimes even Billy had to wonder if he was imagining something that wasn’t there.

There was a certain degree of selfishness to his worries as well, he knew: Teddy was overworking himself, drowning in school, super hero-ing, and now a job, which left precious little time for indulging in activities with a significant other who had – in comparison – too much free time on his hands. Teddy worked for pocket change to indulge the boyfriend he was neglecting because whatever time they’d had between their responsibilities  _before_  his mother died was now eaten up with work. It was a cycle that irritated Billy, and as much as he tried to tell himself that it was because he was concerned about Teddy’s well-being, a little voice in the back of his mind prodded for him to be more honest.

He was worried about Teddy, yes. But he also missed him. It was surreal to live with someone, work with him, while at the same time feel as if you barely saw him at all.

A bit of water on the seed buried beneath the surface of his mind.

 

* * *

 

The final straw was waking alone one night, blinking blearily in the darkness and watching a hunched shadow wander wearily away from the bed. It had become something of a game for them, figuring out who would sneak into whose bedroom first, a game that Teddy was disturbingly good at, which was unfortunate since Billy generally woke up first. It was rare to wake up to Teddy  _leaving_  the bed rather than joining him, though, and he wanted to call out, but something in Teddy’s posture made him pause. Insomnia and nightmares were far from unusual for Teddy the last few weeks – understandably – but generally he didn’t leave. It was cause for concern, and once the door creaked shut, Billy quietly slid out of bed and tiptoed after him, trying to keep silent as he fumbled through the dark hallway of the apartment. It was harder than he’d hoped, particularly when the one being followed had enhanced senses.

Cheater, cheater.

“Oh… I didn’t know you were awake.”

Billy jumped at the voice, eyes wide as he curved his head around the nearest corner, his expression guilty. He was a breath away from apologizing when he noticed that a light was on in the room just beyond the kitchen where Teddy had just set the kettle to boil, a mug in hand, obviously in the process of making coffee. A bit more of a lean allowed him to spot his mother in her favourite chair, a few case files spread out over the coffee table in front of her.

“I’m surprised  _you_  are, Theodore, with your schedule. You know that a boy your age should keep to a consistent sleep schedule in order to excel in all aspects of his life. There have been studies that—” And she stopped there, seeing something that Billy couldn’t, and slowly set aside the page she’d been perusing before he interrupted her. “…Mm. Teddy, why don’t you come here and sit with me for a while.”

“Oh- no, sorry Mrs. K, I really just need a quick drink and I’ll be—” He moved to turn off the kettle, his voice that funny mixture of placation and panic that Billy found all too familiar. It was no wonder—sitting with Rebecca Kaplan often meant sitting with  _Doctor_  Rebecca Kaplan.

Knowing this, however, did not make Billy come out of hiding. Silently he slid down the wall of his little corner, hugging his knees to his chest, and listened. For all his complaints, he was all too aware of the fact that his mother was a professional, and successful professionals were, in general, very  _good_  at their jobs.

Maybe this part of Teddy’s suffering couldn’t be alleviated with a hug, a kiss, and gentle word or the support of a lover. Maybe he just needed to  _talk_  to someone.

Either Teddy came to the same conclusion, or he had decided that it was safer to avoid an argument with his benefactor – the more likely case, with him – and he wandered over to Mrs. Kaplan, sitting down heavily in the plush couch across from the chair.  There was an awkward pause as the kettle sizzled quietly in the kitchen, and then Billy’s mother began to speak. Billy recognized the format of the discussion: gentle small talk, polite, secretly-leading queries, the weapons of a psychologist seeking entry to that inner-circle known as the comfort zone. He grew up with this, and a part of him was miffed to see it used against Teddy; another part of him was pleased that their relationship has reached this point.

His first Kaplan therapy session. It was practically a coming-of-age milestone.

Teddy indulged her with his usual polite demeanor, his answers short but not curt, the master of smoothing over an uncomfortable situation. Billy wished that his angle could let him see Teddy’s expression, but he couldn’t move and risk being seen, so all he could do was use his imagination to fill in the blanks. Their voices were quiet, and the small talk was nothing he hadn’t heard before from Teddy himself – the usual nonsense about him being fine, the job going well, the Young Avengers are keeping safe, blah blah blah…

“I should really sleep, ha ha… I’ve got a shift in the morning and I don’t want to be late. I figure if nothing comes up in the afternoon-“ That is, no super villains trashed the city by then, Billy knows they’re both thinking- “I’d like to go somewhere with Billy. I can tell he’s been missing that.”

Billy heard his mother make a faint noise of agreement at that, and he made a mental note to show her some love later for that. “This new job of yours is eating up an awful lot of your free time. While it’s true that any good couple needs space to remain healthy, too much distance can be detrimental.”

Which was therapist-language for the motherly request of “ _Make_  time to spoil my son,” and Billy wasn’t sure whether or not she deserved that extra love anymore. Teddy had enough pressure on him already.

But then- “Theodore, you know you don’t have to work. There are funds set aside for you as well as Billy now, so if you two want to do something, all you have to do is say so. I’m sure you’ve been missing him just as much, right?”

“…Yeah, more than anything.”

_Cheater_. He  _would_  say that with a straight face, Billy was willing to bet on it. More than anything.

Grieving his mother, and he’d say that.

“I don’t like just living off of someone else’s money, though. You’ve done so much just taking me in like this, and I can’t thank you enough, but-“

Mrs. Kaplan doesn’t let him finish, her voice stern. And Billy felt both victorious and pained for being proven right- it isn’t pride driving Teddy’s behaviour, but guilt. “Family is family, Teddy, and you’re a part of ours now. You don’t have to earn the support we’ve freely given.”

That gave Teddy reason to pause, and once again Billy found himself desperately craning to see his expression. When he finally spoke, there was a decidedly unhappy lilt to his voice that Billy hadn’t heard for a while. “Yeah, I know that, I just… I feel like…”

The words dissolved into a helpless gesture, and Mrs. Kaplan lowered her voice, speaking to him quietly for a long moment. His response was too hushed for Billy to hear, but by the way his shoulders hunched, something had clearly gotten through to him. In the kitchen, the kettle began to hiss and boil, finally releasing a quiet click to indicate that the water was ready, and Billy had to scramble backwards and duck out of sight when his mother, rather than Teddy, headed over to get a pair of mugs ready. Rather than staying and continuing to eavesdrop over what was clearly going to become a very personal discussion, he tiptoed back to his bedroom to wait for Teddy’s return.

He fell asleep long before that happened, but as he lay awake and fretted for a while, fingers clutching the sheets, that little seed breeched the surface of his subconscious and became an  _idea_.

 

* * *

 

The very next morning he had texted Kate, since she was the resident expert, and over coffee and bagels  he had grilled her on the various charities and good causes she’d been a part of: what companies were reputable, how does one get things started, how to spread the news. It was a passion they shared, the love of good causes, so he figured he at least had a good excuse for asking questions all of a sudden. He couldn’t help but feel like she was dissecting every word, though, as he rambled about getting the idea to raise money for such-and-such cause, and how might he get started with this, did she have any suggestions…?

She did, actually, and regardless of whether or not she bought his stupid secrecy (he was fairly sure she did not, Kate was way too smart for that) she was happy to supply him with a list of good, reliable companies to research, websites, payment systems, the whole shebang. She started to offer to help as well, but apparently thought better of it, probably due to the rather pathetic look he gave her. Instead she gave his hand an indulgent little pat and told him to come to her if he had any questions or – more likely – needed help after all.

He repaid her by asking whether she was going out with Tommy or Eli later, which in retrospect he knew was mean. It had been worth it for the look on her face, though.

Speaking of Tommy, he really needed to find his twin –  _twin,_  he still wasn't used to thinking or saying that yet – again and offer him a place in his swiftly growing household. Last time the speedster had just made a face at the prospect of living under the rule of parents again, whether they were his own or someone else’s, so that had been a bust, and Billy had been far too caught up in worrying about Teddy to chase after him. As frustrating as it was to do so, he figured that someone like Tommy required space, so pestering him wasn’t going to get them anywhere. He seemed to be doing just fine in the Young Avengers HQ with Vision, anyway.

No, his priority was Teddy, and it would continue to  _be_  Teddy until a resolution to this problem was found. His idea had potential now, though, so after saying farewell to Kate and heading off, he rushed for home, pleased with the prospects that awaited his research.

On the way home, however, he’d crashed into someone abruptly exiting a store, and it was like running headlong into a truck, sending him tumbling gracelessly on his ass. He was three words into a scathing remark about reckless pedestrians – a habit that he should really stop, considering how often people with builds like trucks were good at punching twig-shaped mages like him – when he looked up, one hand on the back of his head, and realized he’d just crashed into  _Teddy_ , who was already on his knees and apologizing. He glanced over and noticed that, hey, this was the shop where Teddy had been working.

“Are you okay?” Billy caught the tail-end of whatever Teddy was saying, and he shook his head automatically before hastily changing it to a nod, accepting the offered hand and allowing the blond boy to pull him to his feet. Besides a little stiffness – he really does feel like a truck – no obvious harm done.

“Yeah, sorry. Wasn’t watching where I was going.” Now that he was on his feet, though, he took a moment to study Teddy’s expression, noticing the telltale signs of lingering frustration. Before Teddy could offer up another apology, Billy spoke again. “What’s wrong? Did something happen at work?”

Teddy’s lips tightened slightly before curling upwards into a smile, and his shoulders lifted into a shrug. It occurred to Billy that he was off work well before his shift was scheduled to end. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Hey, do you want to go for lunch? My treat, I owe you.”

For a long moment, Billy was torn. Teddy’s money concerns were not going to be alleviated by paying for two meals, but he has sorely missed going  _out_  with his boyfriend. When the moment passed a determined look crossed his expression, and he reached down to take Teddy by the hand, pulling him in the direction of a nearby food plaza, ignoring the forced tone of Teddy’s laugh behind him. “ _My_  treat. You look like you could use some cheering up.”

A prolonged silence was the only reply he received, and Billy considered it both a personal victory and a cause for concern, so he merely squeezed Teddy’s hand and led him to a relatively inexpensive restaurant. If Teddy insisted on paying or somehow ninja’d a payment before him, it wouldn’t break his bank account, and if he did allow Billy to cover the bill, it at least wouldn’t be much. Two birds, one stone. Never mind that Billy had just finished a brunch with their resident Hawkingbird. (Oh wait, she was Hawkeye now, right.)

Over lunch Billy managed to wrench the truth out of Teddy: thanks to their late-night heroics, he’d already managed to miss several shifts, and he hadn’t slept well last night – Billy had to try very hard not to look guilty as he listened, since he was aware of that already – so he had showed up late that morning. Dozing off in the break room had been the last straw, and he’d just been fired.

“It was a lousy job anyway, so it’s fine,” Teddy laughed faintly, waving a hand as if to dismiss the issue entirely- as if Billy hadn’t seen the tense expression he’d worn after their little collision. “I’m sure I can find something better in no time.”

There was a cloud of doubt between them that neither particularly wanted to speak of, because the complaints were entirely untrue; there had been nothing inherently  _wrong_  with the job. The problem was that Teddy already  _had_  one just as much as Billy did, and it unfortunately didn’t pay.  Even the most flexible of job scheduling couldn’t account for the unpredictable nature of superhero duties, and Teddy’s protective nature wouldn’t allow him to just sit things out if his phone happened to ring at work. Billy certainly wasn’t going to tell him how relieved he was that the job was out of the way, because it was selfish, and because Teddy was right back to worrying about money.

So he offered a sympathetic look, called Teddy’s former boss an asshole for firing someone so perfect, and dragged him out of the restaurant to the nearest comic shop. Nothing cheered a good fanboy up like a few well-wasted hours of admiring glossy printed fantasies.

  
 

* * *

 

 

  
It wasn’t until well after dinner a day or so later, while Teddy entertained his little brothers with a few dozen rounds of Mario Kart, that Billy finally managed to set up what he’d been plotting and stewing about since the night he’d eavesdropped. A small-scale charity explaining the situation – carefully, since Teddy’s identity had to be protected – with a small goal and a short time period. Just a bit of extra money so Teddy could stop  _worrying_. He’d already talked it over with his mother, and she’d called it a marvelous idea – “As long as you don’t spend it all on video games and comic books, young man,” which of course had earned her an upturned brow because  _really_ ,  _Mother_  – and had agreed to help. As Teddy’s guardians, the Kaplans had control over the funds left behind by Teddy’s mother after she died; Teddy had been insistent upon that after they had convinced him to stay with them. That meant they could make a small deposit and pass it on to Teddy with him none-the-wiser to its true source – it could have been investments, interest, all sorts of things. The deception bothered Billy a little, even if it was his idea, but if Teddy wasn’t going to accept charity from  _family_ , why would he accept it from strangers? It was the logical choice.

So he had posted the idea, gotten the ball rolling, spread the news around as carefully as he could without relying on the usual social networking sites – Teddy would have noticed it, otherwise. And it had worked, sort of. Donations crept in, a dollar here, a dollar there. He himself gave at least a hundred from his comic book fund. That selfishness crept up again – that money Teddy received could find its way back to him in the form of dates, but this time he squashed it stubbornly. This investment was for Teddy’s mental well-being. For time they could spend together. For getting his boyfriend back.

The best part was that it was working – little by little, the money was showing up. It all seemed very quiet and clever and perfect for the first week, and he was pretty pleased with himself.

And then he woke up one morning to discover that somehow, practically  _overnight_ , his contribution goal had been reached fifty times over.

He stared at his laptop screen for a long time, a strangled noise escaping his lips. Fifty.  _Fifty times_. And even as he watched, the donations were still coming in. In the span of twelve hours the website page had spread like wildfire through several local news sites, tweeted and re-tweeted and  _oh god were those celebrities_. He scanned over hundreds of names, eyes growing wider and wider as the list continued to grow, until he caught sight of one name that explained entirely the sudden, unexpected explosion of human compassion.

_Kate Bishop_.

He had never in his lifetime dialed a number so quickly.

“What did you do!?” he wailed into the phone as soon as he heard the click of her picking up.

“You weren’t exactly  _subtle_ , Billy.” Well, at least she wasn’t trying to hide the fact that she was guilty. “Anyway, it was looking pretty pathetic- I just gave it a nudge in the right direction. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“How am I supposed to give him  _fifty thousand dollars_  without him noticing!?”

There was a pause. “Actually, I think it’s closer to sixty, now.” He responded with a noise was did not sound entirely human in his ears, and she had the gall to laugh at his suffering. “Look, Teddy’s smart. I doubt you could’ve given him even a couple hundred without making him suspicious. I’ve done this long enough to know that you can’t run a charity based on lies. Sooner or later you get caught, and people get angry, and angry people get their money back.”

“But he wasn’t lying, I was.”

“You think that makes a difference? Just tell him, Billy.”

He glared at his phone as if his irritation alone could set it on fire, and then forced himself to stop when he realized it actually  _could_. “I’m going to tell him this is your fault.”

“I’m pretty sure he’ll enjoy thanking you more than he will thanking me, sweetie.”

She hung up before he could even start blushing at the implications, and he was in the process of dramatically strangling his pillow when Teddy wandered in, attracted by the noise.

“What’s going on?” His eyebrow quirked as Billy gave him a familiar deer-in-headlights look. “Uh-oh. I know that look.”

He  _should_  – it was the look Billy gave him every time he was caught in the process or the aftermath of doing something stupid.

“N-nothing, I was just- I was talking to Kate. She said- no, I mean, she did this thing…” He flailed a bit helplessly, which only urged Teddy to sit on the bed with him, waiting patiently. A saint. The man was a goddamned saint. “I wanted to do something… you know, for you, and it kind of…”

Coherency, it seemed, was a little beyond him at this point, so rather than continuing to attempt his pathetic ramble, he slid his laptop in Teddy’s direction and buried his face in the pillow again, doing his very best not to scream into it.

He wasn’t sure how much he stayed like that, but eventually he had to lift his head for a proper breath of air, and the moment he did he found himself suddenly eclipsed in a strong pair of arms, Teddy’s face buried in the crook of his shoulder, and Billy could do little else but lift his arms to hold the blond back.

He tried to speak first – started to blather on defensively about how he should definitely take it, because he was a super hero, and it wasn’t charity because he was  _earning_  it, and if the Avengers got paid for saving the world then dammit, why couldn’t they? But Teddy’s vice grip on him tightened, and he forced himself to shut up. Sometimes he really did talk too much for anyone’s good.

“I love you,” was the first set of half-muffled words Billy heard, and all the tension in his body seemed to drain in relief. Teddy wasn’t mad.

Perfect man. Unfair,  _unfair_.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Teddy mumbled, his fingers tightening in the material of Billy’s shirt, and it takes a moment for it to sink in that for there was a very slight yet distinct wetness seeping against his shoulder. “You didn't, but... just...  _t_ _hank you._ ”

For the first time in ages, Teddy wasn’t cheating, wasn’t hiding how he felt. And there was a tightness to his grip that Billy hadn’t experienced for some time, a tremulous embrace that was reminiscent of the one they had shared during his mother’s memorial service. When he had been grieving her.

It was easy to forget, Teddy being who he was – Hulkling, and therefore strong, powerful, protective, confident,  _immobile_  – that he was sixteen years old. Sixteen, alone in the world, now two times an alien when he’d been an assumed mutant only a few weeks before. Worrying about money, about becoming a burden. And still about saving the world time and time again.

It was such a burden, and as he held his boyfriend close, rubbed gentle, soothing circles over his back, nuzzled his hair and murmured sweet nothings into his ear, Billy made a silent promise to himself then and there – that Teddy Altman would be a part of his life and a part of his future forever, and Teddy’s problems would be his problems, and his family would be Teddy’s, and he was going to make sure that this  _worked_  somehow. This family of theirs, messed up and clumsy and tied together by more than blood.

“I love you,” he whispered, stroking Teddy’s hair, and mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ at his phone, where the display still showed Kate’s picture, evidence of his last call.

She had been right, after all: this was much better.

 


End file.
